An American Delusion
by RamblingRae
Summary: America was a mad man. He lived everyday in a genial manner; smiling brightly at the world, hiding his true self. He trusted few, loved even fewer. He kept up appearances- joked, annoyed, pranked. He was the considered to be the child of the world in its eyes, so why would he change that? Better to deceive them all than for them to know the truth. Insane!America. One-shot.


**AN: Greetings people of this planet! Since this is my first work published on here, I'll introduce myself. My pen name is 'DorkyAmericanHero'- for obvious reasons, but if you want, you can just call me 'Dork'. Mmkay? Mmkay.**

 **Anyway, this is one of the few one shots that I've written in my spare time, and I'm sure that you can expect more. This idea just came to me one day, so I just went with it- and it still shocks me. Just read it and review if you want!**

 **Warning: A bit of gore? Idk if it's really considered that... Also, an OC makes an appearance- my OC of the Confederate States of America, so there's that. I know a lot of people are reluctant about OCs. I suppose you can consider this AmeCan if you squint, but meh.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any other brand names that I may or may not make references to. If I did, I'd be hella rich and England and America would just be together already.**

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 **~An American Delusion~**

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America was a mad man. He lived everyday in a genial manner; smiling brightly at the world, hiding his true self. He trusted few, loved even fewer. He kept up appearances- joked, annoyed, pranked. He was the considered to be the child of the world in its eyes, so why would he change that? Better to deceive them all than for them to know the truth.

He was a paranoid man; constantly haunted with delusions. Screaming women and children. Burning fires. Men dying for pointless causes. He could never sleep without hearing the mournful cries of his people- the cries of starving children, the outraged yells of the people who weren't satisfied with his government- those who didn't believe in the American Dream anymore. One could scoff at the idea. The American Dream. Had that even existed? Where had the land of opportunity gone? What had happened to it?

The voices and illusions had faded over the years, but every once in a while, he would get a visit or two from one of the people he'd imagined. Currently, he was in Canada, visiting his brother after the Canadian had begged for him to take a vacation.

"You've been overworking yourself, Alfred," Matthew had said. "How aboot you visit me for a week or two, eh?"

And so, here he was. He was currently in the guest bedroom at his brother's cabin. The Canadian was in the kitchen, whipping them up some pancakes, of course. Normally, Alfred would have gone to watch, but he just excused himself, saying that he felt tired.

" _North_."

The American's cerulean eyes drifted up to see one of his frequent delusions sitting at the foot of the bed, legs crossed. The delusion was a man who didn't look too much unlike Alfred himself. His hair was a faded sort of blond, skin paler, eyes more of a grey shade than blue. He was dressed in a grey Confederate military uniform and hat- covered in dirt, grime and blood. This was the representation of the Confederate States of America- who had died during the Civil War. Jonathan Jones. His was expressionless, eyes cloudy as a storm.

"South. What're ya doing here?" America breathed out, running a hand through his hair. The Confederate stared him straight in the eye, causing a shiver to run down his spine. " _Ya cain't trust him, yanno. Yer brother, I mean. He'll betray ya like everybody does. Like I did_." Came his deceased southern brother's gruff and thick southern accent. " _He may seem all hunky dory now, but yanno I'm right. Ya' em gotta take 'im out before he takes ya out first_."

Rolling his eyes, Alfred fell back into the bed. "Shut up. Mattie would never betray me! I'm his brother." But then again, that hadn't stopped Johnny.

The Confederate snorted. " _Right. I know ya've seen 'im hangin' around that Russian commie lately. He's probably plottin' yer demise right behind yer back, North. Are ya just gonna let yerself be brought down by the likes of them? Pathetic_." Johnny spat out, stormy blue eyes flashing with malice. Alfred promptly covered his ears. "He'd never betray me!" He repeated firmly, louder this time.

" _He would and he will!_ " The delusion raised his voice, growling slightly at the American. " _And yer just gonna let it happen! What happened to ya, eh?! What happened to the damned Union?! The almighty United States of America?!_ " He spat at him, shoving the super power to the ground, a loud thump sounding as his body hit the ground. "He's my brother," Alfred replied weakly, only to be kicked in the ribs by the delusion.

" _Since when did ya let that kinda fact stop ya?! Look at what ya did to me! Ya didn't have to kill me and **I'm** yer brother just as much as that damned Canadian!_ " He yelled. America slowly sat up, coughing. "I didn't want to kill ya, South. Ya gave me no choice..." Came his protest. The sound of footsteps interrupted their conversation. " _Here he comes._ " Johnny mumbled, crossing his legs as he settled back on the bed, not bothering to fade from Alfred's vision.

The door swung open to reveal a softly smiling Canadian. "Hey, Al," He greeted, a rather large plate of pancakes in his hands. "I brought them up here since I thought that you could be tired from your flight." He said kindly, placing the plate down.

" _Traitor_." Johnny muttered, making Alfred's eye twitch. Matthew tilted his head, looking back toward his brother. "Hey, were you talking to someone earlier? I heard someone else..."

" _Fuckin' traitor. Coward. Wimp._ "

Alfred laughed almost nervously. "Nah, I was just watching YouTube. Yanno, Markiplier." He excused.

" _Look at that smile. He's plannin' on how to hang ya up by yer toenails right now. What a fuckin' bastard._ "

The American did his best to ignore the delusion, but his words did seem to make him lose his appetite. He didn't touch the pancakes. "...hey Mattie? I can trust ya, right?"

The Canadian blinked slowly, almost baffled by the question. "Can you- of course you can trust me!"

" _That's just what a traitor would say,_ " Johnny pointed out, grumbling a bit. Alfred's gaze drifted toward the Confederate, glaring weakly in his direction. He dared not speak to him however. Matthew would just think that he was crazy.

The Canadian sat down on the floor next to his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder; his face laced with concern. "...are you okay?"

Cerulean pools flickered back to the other man, something just... not right within them. "If I can trust you, then why do you hang around Russia so much?" He finally asked, completely ignoring the question about his well-being. Matthew looked startled by the question. "W-well, I..."

" _See the hesitation? He's tryin' to think of an excuse_." Johnny was now by Alfred's ear, whispering into it. Alfred pushed himself to his feet, turning to look down at the other blond, towering over him for once. "Are you plannin' something? Is that why you called me here? Are you and the Ruskie planning to invade and steal my lands?" A paranoid look rested on his face; his expression looked like broken glass, voice uncharacteristically quiet.

"Wh-what?!" Violet eyes widened in response, only to widen even further when the American grabbed him by his throat and slammed him up against the bedroom walls. "Tell me the truth, Mattie! What the hell are you doing?! I thought I could trust you!"

The Canadian wiggled and squirmed beneath his brother's strong grip. "Y-you /can/ trust me, Alfred! You're paranoid! I'm your brother!"

America hissed and kept holding him there by his neck. "Brothers fight brothers all the time! Brothers betray brothers all the time!" He tightened the grip, making Canada let out a little choked sound, body convulsing. "I won't let you. I won't let you betray me like this. You can't, you can't." He was repeating phrases, a frazzled look in his eyes; which seemed like they were unseeing. Matthew's own were filled with tears, which streamed down his face.

" _There's only one way to do that, North. Remember what you did to me_."

How could Alfred forget? It had been one of the most violent moments of his life. An almost childish smile appeared on Alfred's face. "Don't worry, Canada. We'll be together forever." And with that said, Alfred used all of his strength and thrust his fist into Matthew's chest, breaking straight through the flesh, straight to his beating heart. Then...

He pulled it out.

Once the heart (which still beat in his bloody hand) was out, Alfred let Matthew's now lifeless body fall to the ground with a sickening thump. He stared at it, just as he had stared at Johnny's heart all of those years ago, as if studying it.

Then he laughed. He laughed hard, long, laughed so hard that he ended up sobbing and curling up in a ball on the floor, all while cradling the Canadian's now still heart.

And so, the hero falls to his delusion.


End file.
